


Falling Into Shadows

by catteo



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/pseuds/catteo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my take on the inside of Stefan’s head. Runs from 2x22 to 3x10 then goes vaguely AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Into Shadows

_But the stars are burnin' bright like some mystery uncovered  
I'll keep movin' through the dark with you in my heart  
My blood brother_

For an endless second he allows himself to believe that he has a choice. That there might be some doubt as to the course he will take. Tries to fool himself into thinking that there is something more important than his own flesh and blood, sinew and bone.

_Damon_

He stares at the bag in his hands, feels his throat constrict at the thought of what he’s about to do, how far he’s about to fall. From the corner of his eye he sees Klaus’ mouth twist into a half-smile, triumphant. Finally, he allows himself to admit what he has known all along, in the hidden pieces of him. There was never any doubt, never any real choice. 

He rips away a flimsy piece of plastic, wonders for a desperate instant at the ease with which a future can be torn apart, and drinks.

He dimly hears Klaus’ applause, almost drowned out by the heady rush as he gulps. Tries to fight his way to the surface, to protest that Katherine can’t be trusted. Could _never_ be trusted with his brother’s life. 

But his hunger is endless, pulling him down, stealing his breath. 

He feels it take hold, the bliss of release, and he tries to forget. With every swallow he loosens his grip on the life he had so carefully built for himself. Lets it crash down around him, irretrievable. 

Broken.

The sense of freedom is intoxicating, a heady illusion. Blood slides across his tongue, thick and rich. Warm heat uncoiling at his core, sliding up his spine. His thirst is insatiable. He feels like he could drink forever and still it wouldn’t be enough. 

He brutally thrusts away images that try to force themselves into his mind. 

His brother; his girlfriend. 

_His past._

He gives himself over to the sensations sparking through his body, jolts of electricity firing at his nerve endings. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the overwhelming feeling that everything is coming to an end. Barely takes a moment to marvel that apologies and regrets taste like iron and salt in his throat.

Klaus says his name into the night.

 _“Ripper.”_

He knows what he is and what he does. He allows himself to believe that it will be different this time; that he will be in control. Forgets that there is no control and that he’s merely an instrument. Klaus wields him with an expert hand, shredding lives and destroying innocence. With every death he feels his control slip, finds himself unable to tell where he ends and nightmares begin.

Every choice he makes strips away another part of his self-control. He starts to pull up walls, to shut out the voice in his mind, screaming for attention. Begging for an end to all of this. Seconds, minutes, hours, until finally he’s almost numb. Ready, at last, to destroy the final vestiges of a life he worked so hard to build. 

Andie falls. 

He doesn’t care. Repeats it over and over in his mind until he’s almost convinced. Until the words almost lose all meaning to him. But he finds himself standing on an empty soundstage with the _only_ person who can reach him, and he sees himself finally for what he has become. Darkness and shadows and irrevocably lost. He finally realises that no matter how fast he runs, he can’t escape himself. 

He says his farewells in silence, the static of her voice twisting around his heart, a paralyzing ache. A declaration of love an agonising reminder of what it is to be human. 

All he wants is to forget.

To be free.

Eyes snap open on chaos. He’s the eye of the storm and the destruction is total. He sees himself reflected in the shards of a mirror, bright crystal shattered on the floor. His eyes are dark and brutal. Blood smeared across his jaw, along his arms. 

He studies their faces and wonders at the fear and accusation he sees in dead eyes. Thinks that maybe he’s imagining things. Hopes that perhaps this is finally madness and he can surrender at last. But he still finds himself putting the pieces back together, silent apologies in every movement, and carving names onto walls. Reliving every mistake that he ever made to the sounds of the screams of ghosts howling through his mind.

He can no longer distinguish between hellish dreams and his waking life. His world condenses to darkness, suffocating black, punctured through with slashes of crimson red. He starts to see his brother’s eyes in the faces that look back at him and loses days to the insanity that follows. 

He finally comes to himself two hundred miles and a lifetime from home. He stands alone in dappled sunlight and finally allows parts of himself to filter through the walls he has so emphatically erected. Wonders how freedom turned into a hell that he can’t run from and can’t bring himself to face.

The city passes in a blur. The present bleeds into the past and he can’t bring himself to care enough to separate the strands. Klaus is his friend, his brother, his torturer. Elena saves him and Katherine condemns him. Katherine saves him and he loves Rebekah. It’s easier to just forget. He buries razor-sharp teeth in flesh and finds a fleeting peace.

He remembers.

_Damon is his brother._

“You’d sacrifice anything for family.”

The devil follows him home, whispering promises of an easier life without his humanity. A seductive soft murmur in his ear promising only darkness with no confusing shades of grey. Blurs of light flash across his vision, pleading in tones he almost recognizes. Begging, _insisting_ that he reach for them. He can’t seem to find the words to make them stop. Surrenders himself instead to the blood-red security of oblivion.

And then there’s nothing. The white noise rushing in his skull, screaming truth and accusations, snaps off. It’s an ecstasy of silence. He thinks that this must finally be the release he craves, but he’s more trapped than ever. Forced into a cage of another’s making. 

The predator within rages at the confines of its new prison, screaming for release. Shackled and bound he lashes out with words of truth, satisfied at the open wounds he inflicts. He tilts his head and sees the scars of his honesty burning under soft skin. Can’t quite understand the agony he feels in his own.

It’s over in a heartbeat. He can feel her breath on his cheek, close enough to touch. Fingers clench in his chest and for an eternity neither of them breathes. And then, like an answered prayer, everything turns to black. 

All too soon reality forces him to wakefulness. Cruelty bubbles to his lips but this time the world shifts. She’s different. Changing. 

The past catches him again.

His hunger is all consuming. He’s being tortured by ghosts and he can’t make sense of anything. His world suddenly consists of nothing but a chair, wooden shards and endless pain. He begs for forgiveness, screams his hatred and rages at the choices that have brought him here. They hear the words, but not the guilt or the sorrow. He hides his regrets under lies and accusations and prays that someone will finally end it.

Through the sorrow in her voice he thinks he hears a goodbye.

He’s woken to flashes of colour, green and blue, the alien sound of laughter. He drags his head up, inches his lashes apart and finally _sees_. Allows memories to rush past him, a technicolour flood that almost drags him under. A voice anchors him steady, pulls him to solid ground. Accuses him of giving up. Forces him to fight back.

He’s been doing someone else’s bidding for so long that he almost doesn’t recognise the moment when it comes. For frantic seconds he thinks he’ll finally be alone, serving the penance that he deserves. But he only knows how to be half of a whole and so he finds an answer. Forces the first hairline fracture in the fortress walls he has built around his soul. 

He doesn’t know how she got here and he’s not that sure that he cares. She offers him redemption and he grasps it with both hands. He finally sees the chinks in her carefully constructed armour. Her weakness. She tells the truth.

He _feels_.

Emotions rush into the vortex. Hatred. Vengeance. His world once again an ocean of black and grey, vast and empty. Elena stands at the centre, a harsh reminder of all that _he_ lost. Of all that _Klaus_ gained. He forces a control he doesn’t feel and he betrays her. Makes her relive a night where he was her saviour. It’s a role he no longer knows how to play. He stands in the force of her devastation and finally makes an end.

He stands in the shadows beyond the porch. Watches. Feels the sharp sting of loss as his brother makes a different choice and takes his place. Can’t understand how his sacrifice came to this. Feels the red heat of anger. The salt-burn of his own shame on his face. 

The miles blur and he stands, uncertain, in another city. In another life. He’s certain that she’s the only one to comprehend the choices he made. The door opens before he even raises his hand to knock and she waits. Head tilted to one side, a question on her face. A challenge in her eyes. 

“I want to forget.”

An imperceptible shake of her head, but she draws him inside anyway. Ghosts her hands down his face and wipes away an unnoticed tear with a gentle thumb. He can’t quite rationalise how alike they have become. 

Wonders if they’ll ever be redeemed.


End file.
